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We first heard the name of Deng Chung Leung aka Deng Yu back in December ’89 in Hong Kong from an eccentric Canadian, Ross Sinclair.

Ross and we became good friends over the years that followed our first meeting in the coffee shop of the Prince Hotel in Tsim Sha Tsui. We had been referred to each other by a mutual business friend. It was a Friday after­noon, and we had a leisurely long chat over a few drinks.

The most remarkable story Ross told us that day was about his association with Deng, purportedly the nephew of Deng Xiao Ping, yes, THE Deng Xiao Ping! Ross and Deng had developed a close friendship, he told us, in spite of the fact that they had problems communicating with each other. Over the 21 years Ross had been in Asia, mostly in Hong Kong, he had learned to speak some Canton­ese and had picked up a little bit of Mandarin, while Deng, a Sichuan native, spoke Mandarin with a heavy Sichuan accent.

As Ross told it, Deng was a powerful figure in Guangzhou and southern parts of Guangdong province. Being the relative of the top figure in China, he did not really do, or need to do, much in the way of work or business. He just loved to have fun and to drink with his buddies. And drink is what Ross knew how to do well.

One Sunday afternoon the next June, Ross called to say that Deng was in town, and if we would like to meet him we should come down to the White Stag Pub on Canton Road. We got to the pub at about 6:00 pm and Ross and Deng were there already having their beers.

Ross did the introductions and asked us what we wanted to drink. I ordered a cold coffee, and Deng reacted very surprised that I didn’t join them with a beer. He asked me why, and I told him I had quit drinking alcohol for over 10 years. He said, “That’s no good; we are men, and men should be able to drink.” So he insisted. And I relented, even though I despise the taste of beer.

Deng was a tall skinny guy, wearing a worn old shirt, with an equally worn pair of old pants. In other words, he looked like a typical northern Chinese in those days, not well dressed at all.

One thing a bit unusual about him was that he was very sociable – not at all like other snooty high positioned Chinese government officials I had met before. Maybe his relaxed demeanor was because we were Canadians, also Ross’s friends. Deng seemed to enjoy making friends with foreigners, and in fact, he confided in me unabashedly that he was on the lookout for a white girlfriend, and was there any way we could help?

Much later, Ross recounted to us the story of the fight at the Baiyun Hotel in Guangzhou.

At one time, Ross had had a couple of Canadian friends over from his home town, Thun­der Bay, Ontario. They went up to Guangzhou to see Deng. Just for kicks, Deng brought them to an army base to shoot machine guns. They spent five days in Guangzhou touring, visiting and having fun. And Deng was with them the entire time.

One night, they were having dinner and drinking at the Baiyun Hotel. Deng called in four beautiful Xinjiang women to entertain his Canadian friends at the dinner table.

Apparently these Xinjiang women were from high class and powerful families in Xinjiang. They had run away to the south to have a good time. Their families back home sent four “warriors” down south to find them and bring them home. It so happened that these warriors found them at the Baiyun Hotel that night while they were with Deng and Ross. The warriors simply came forward and dragged the women outside the hotel and into their car.

Besides Ross and his two friends, Deng had eight friends at the table. These other men were mostly from the army, and they all got into a fight with the warriors. Meanwhile Ross was trying to stop his own friends from joining the scrimmage, wanting to avoid an international incident. Those Xinjiang warriors were very good fighters and Deng’s gang could not match them. Some minutes later, several policemen came and they too joined the fight.

The fight did not end until uniformed PSB (Public Security Bureau) men got there. The Xinjiang men were arrested. The head of the PSB group recognized Deng and asked Deng what to do with the warriors. Deng didn’t say a word, simply pointed his thumb down, as if he was a Roman Emperor deciding the fate of a Coliseum gladiator.

The next day Ross found out from Deng’s associates that the four warriors had disappeared; most likely executed, was Ross’s guess.

Another rather strange story with Deng involved the Doo’s brothers.

The Doo’s brothers were good friends of Deng at one time. Of the three brothers, the senior Doo was a good guy and the second Doo was the bad guy, according to Deng and Ross.

Somehow the second Doo had managed to steal over 100 million yuan (about US$25 million) from the Beijing government. This middle Doo was blacklisted by the State Council in Beijing.

Earlier, the three brothers, using Deng’s connection with the head security in Guangzhou, had spent a million yuan each to buy themselves Hong Kong IDs and had come to Hong Kong to set up a trading company. Deng had helped them in their business by getting them import permits for TV tubes, circuit boards, auto parts and the like, items that were very difficult to import into China at the time.

With all the import permits, they shipped container loads of goods worth 70 million yuan (USD 17.5 million) into China. But some of the goods were seized by Shanghai Customs, and the Doo brothers were charged with smuggling. According to Deng, China was a poor place, and each port had its own authorities running their own shows. The Shanghai Customs Office simply confiscated Doo’s goods.

The eldest Doo went up to Shanghai to negotiate, but instead, he was locked up for six months there. Again Deng used his connections to have the senior Doo released. A few months later, the third Doo went to Guangzhou for business and was arrested. He was still in jail in Guangzhou at the time Deng was telling us this story.

So the middle Doo, the bad guy, was really worried then. The money he stole from China was almost gone. He was in hiding – the PSB could come to HK to take him back to China anytime. According to Deng, stealing more than 50,000 yuan (US$12,500) from the government was enough of a crime to be shot. And second Doo knew that the minute he crossed the border into China, he’d be a dead man. What a way to live one’s life!

We saw Deng a few more times, but then we lost contact.